


Wake Up Call

by genevievedarcygranger



Series: Negan/Rick fics [26]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Anal Sex, Bisexual Rick Grimes, Bottom Rick Grimes, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Humor, M/M, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Pansexual Negan (Walking Dead), Romance, Sexual Content, Smut, Top Negan (Walking Dead), Toy Story References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 08:31:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16281140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievedarcygranger/pseuds/genevievedarcygranger
Summary: Negan steals Rick’s hat, and just a little of his time before he has to head into work.





	Wake Up Call

**Author's Note:**

> Modern AU so Carl never got Rick’s hat, okay. Also, I literally just needed a title and yeah, it’s another Maroon 5 song. It’s working out for me so far.

Sunday mornings were hit or miss for Rick Grimes. Sometimes they were a hit if it worked out that not only did Negan not have to go to school or go to baseball practice or one of their games, but Rick also didn’t have to go into work at the station either. On those rare days, they had their sleepy lie-ins and the kids would handle their own breakfast of sugary cereal and catching up on weekend homework until Rick and Negan were ready to leave the sanctity of their bedroom.

More often than not, though, Sunday mornings were a miss because Rick had to go into work, most of the time leaving before dawn. He didn’t want to go because Rick enjoyed time spent with his family and especially the preciously caught alone time he could be with Negan intimately, but work was work and there were always so many unexpected finances cropping up. Carl needs a car now that he has his license, paying for Carl to go to a nice college, too, since scholarships don’t cover everything nowadays, Judith needs glasses now for school, last month Negan had to have a root canal, which he was very unhappy about, and the refrigerator crapped out in the middle of the night last week meaning they had to not only buy a new one, but completely restock the fridge, too. Always something.

But this morning was supposed to be his day off, but around four in the morning Rick woke up to his cellphone buzzing so hard that it slid off the nightstand and clattered to the floor. Negan jerked in his sleep and his soft snoring hitched, but he didn’t wake up. Rick, however, still attuned to when Judith’s toddler phase of nightmares every other night, sat up and blindly searched in the dark for his phone. Careful to make sure the brightness wouldn’t wake Negan, Rick checked first the time – _3:56 a.m._ – and then the caller I.D. on the missed call. _Sheriff Horvath._

Peeking over his bare shoulder, Rick saw that Negan was still curled up on his side facing the opposite way just as Rick had been spooning him. A fond smile curled his lips before his brain caught up to why the sheriff might be calling him so early, and with a small sigh, Rick rolled out of bed and padded over to the bathroom for privacy. With the door shut and the wood cool against his back, Rick dialed the number again and held it to his ear as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

“Hello, Rick,” Dale’s voice was calm, even jovial. “I’m sorry to disturb you at this time and I know you’re not scheduled to come into work today, but Tara went into labor last night around midnight so Rosita will be at the hospital with her. We’re already a little short-staffed with Abraham still on his honeymoon with Sasha, so we were hoping you could come in to cover.”

Pulling the phone a little away from his face, Rick stifled his yawn in his hand before he answered in a sleep-roughened voice. “She already went into labor? Isn’t that a little early for her?” As half-asleep as he was, Rick was trying to do the mental math in his head.

“It is a little early,” Dale admitted, “but her labor was quick! As of eleven minutes ago little Jasper Cristian Chambler-Espinoza was born at seven pounds, six ounces and exactly twenty-one inches long. All ten of his fingers and toes and a full head of hair! Rosita said she would send in pictures a little later.” Dale sounded proud, but of course he would. Even though he was the sheriff, he was a kind man and most everybody who worked under him were treated like family. Jasper would be practically like a grandchild to him, especially since Dale didn’t have any of his own.

Dale’s excitement was contagious, and Rick remembered how it felt when Carl was born and then – with a tinge of sadness – when Judith was born. “Well, that’s great. Sounds like an easy labor since it was less than twelve hours.”

“God knows her pregnancy was hell on wheels. She deserved an easy delivery.” They both shared a chuckle at that, glad Tara would be on maternity leave now so that they would stop getting their heads bitten off and so that the vending machines could start stocking the flaming hot Cheetos again. “So, can you come in, Rick?” Dale asked, bringing the conversation back around to the start again.

Pressing his lips together, Rick almost regretted to agreeing to take on more overtime so readily, but as he remembered all the bills and the second mortgage on the house and the surprise trip to Disney he was planning for Judith’s upcoming seventh birthday, he soldiered through it. “Yeah, I’ll be at the station by six.”

“Take your time. Thanks, Rick. See you soon.”

Rick hung up and took a breath. Then he set his phone on the sink vanity and briskly washed his face. No point in going back to bed now.

After jumping in the shower, brushing his teeth, and then shaving after the condensation cleared up from the mirror, Rick exited the bathroom with a white towel slung loose and low around his hips as he went to grab his uniform from the closet, but he paused when he glanced in Negan’s direction. Through the bedroom window, even with the blinds shuttered closed, sunlight was valiantly trying to fill the room by leaking through the small sliver in between the drawn curtains. The morning light spilled across the bed, illuminating the tanned skin of Negan’s belly as he had kicked the blankets off and his night shirt rode up his back. He was sleeping on his belly now, no longer snoring, and Rick again smiled fondly at his husband before sighing as he remembered he had to leave.

Walking around the bed to Negan’s side, Rick leaned over, still clutching the towel in front of his groin to preserve his modesty even if that didn’t even matter considering the present company, and pressed a sweet kiss to Negan’s forehead. At the brief, small touch, Negan’s eyelids fluttered and he angled his face more towards Rick. Knowing exactly what he wanted, Rick closed the gap between them for a proper good morning kiss, and then pulled away again before it could get too heated. Finally, Negan opened his sleepy, hazel eyes. “Rick,” there was a growl in his already rich, low timbre, “Rick, baby, why are you up so fucking early? Come back to bed, sweetheart.”

“I can’t.” Rick reached his freehand out and smoothed Negan’s dark hair out his face, thinking how unfair it was that Negan could look so sexy with his five o’clock shadow even with all the silver. “Tara had her baby this mornin’, so Rosita’s gone and Abe’s still gone. We need the overtime, Negan.”

Negan groaned and then rolled over his back. Rick’s eyes inadvertently dropped down to Negan’s stomach, his shirt rode up so high it revealed his navel, and his sleep pants slung so low that it teased the ‘v’ of his hips, and between all that a dark happy-trail that begged for kisses. Somehow Rick resisted and dragged his eyes back up to Negan’s face to find him looking over Rick’s nearly naked and still dripping body in a similar fashion.

When their eyes connected again, it was like a red string of fate between them, crackling with lust and promising that before Rick would leave for work, they were going to make love. Negan, of course, took it as a challenge, but as Rick’s eyes flickered over to the clock and he added up the time needed to get to the station in the rush hour traffic, he once again resisted.

“Don’t even think about it, Negan,” Rick warned and straightened his body again, hands fiddling with the towel as he tried to properly tie it around his waist.

“Think about what, Rick?” Negan arched his brow, playing innocent, even though his dirty smile completely ruined the look.

A little flustered, Rick simply shot back, “You know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout, Negan. Don’t.”

“You must have a dirty mind there, baby,” Negan teased and reached his hands out, stroking his palms over Rick’s meaty hipbones. “Besides, a man can’t help but think certain shit when a man as fucking gorgeous as you comes around here in just a towel. Goddamn, baby, if anyone is to blame here it’s you; coming in here to seduce and waking me up with kisses, but then making it clear you ain’t going to put out. What a fucking tease. That’s just cruel.”

With a scoff and a roll of his eyes, Rick gently batted away Negan’s hands before they could wander too far and gave up on tying the towel. He must have grabbed one of the smaller ones by mistake, or maybe he’d gotten a little bigger because it just wasn’t enough to wrap around him. So even though he knew it would get a rise out of Negan – in more ways than one – Rick clutched the towel over his groin and turned to the closet to get his uniform and to grab a pair of fresh boxers from the dresser.

As soon as Rick’s back was turned, Negan’s heated gaze dropped to Rick’s pert rear and he let loose a soft whistle of appreciation. “Goddamn, baby.”

“You hush,” Rick called back, not even bothering to look at Negan over his shoulder. As he rooted through the dresser, he said, “You need to be quiet. The kids are still sleepin’.” With a small smile at Negan’s aggravated huff in response, Rick grabbed a pair of boxers and a pair of white socks to stuff under his arm before he went to the closet to grab his uniform. “You need me to stop at the store on the way home?”

“Nah, I went grocery shopping on Friday with Judith while you were at work.” Negan’s eyes followed him everywhere he went, and his tongue snaked out to wet his lips.

“Oh,” Rick’s voice was still distinctly lighthearted from inside their closet, “Is that why our pantry is stocked with Cosmic Brownies?”

“They were on sale!” Negan hotly defended himself. As Rick emerged from the closet with his dry-cleaned uniform, he briskly continued walking to the bathroom. “What, you’re not gonna dress out here? Come on, Rick, don’t be a pussy. We’re married. Don’t you trust me?”

“Nope.” Rick’s smile was smug, and then he closed the bathroom door behind him.

With another small huff through his nose, Negan sat up in bed, reaching for the blankets so that he could just roll over and go back to sleep until Rick left. Midway through the action, though, he paused as his eyes fell on the beige rocking chair in the corner of the master bedroom. It used to be in Judith’s room back when it was a nursery, but after they swapped out her furniture for big girl stuff, they brought the chair in here. Neither one of them had the heart enough yet to let it go yet since they had such fond memories of watching the other rock Judith to sleep when she was a baby. Recently, with Judith’s stunt of nightmares, once or twice Negan caught Rick rocking Judith there again. She was definitely too big with it after her last growth spurt had her shooting up like a weed, but she still managed to snuggle into Rick’s chest and fall asleep easily.

Negan felt a tug on his heartstrings, and then his eyes traveled further up the back of the chair until it rested on Rick’s sheriff hat ( _“Sheriff’s deputy hat, Negan.”_ ) hanging on a wooden peg on the back of the rocking chair. Immediately, a smile sprung to Negan’s face as get an idea. While Rick was still changing, Negan quickly climbed out of bed and stripped down to nothing before grabbing Rick’s hat and settling back on the back again. He stuffed the pillows behind his back so he could comfortably lean back against the headboard, and then as the pièce de résistance, he plopped Rick’s hat over his lap covering his erection.

"Negan? Do you still want to cook dinner tonight?” Rick called from the other side of the bathroom door. “I can pick something up for us on the way home if you like.”

Crossing his arms behind his head, Negan looked over at the bathroom door expectantly. “No need, Rick. We’re still on tonight for meatloaf.”

There was a pause and then a shuffle on the other side of the door. Negan’s stomach was in knots just waiting. Finally, the door swung open and Rick stepped out still fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. “Honey, have you seen my–” he stopped midsentence once he saw Negan’s state of undress and then his eyes dropped down to Negan’s lap. “Hat.”

Rick let out a long sigh, and let his shirt go unbuttoned as he dropped his hands to his hips. “Negan,” Rick began in reproach, “What are you doin’?”

“Nothing, Rick.” Negan’s smile was lazy, but there was a twinkle of mischief in his eye that promised trouble. Rick’s eyes darted to the clock and his mouth thinned when he saw that he really, really didn’t have time for trouble this early this morning. “But, uh, if you’re looking for your hat, you might want to watch out.”

Dragging his eyes back to Negan’s face, Rick licked his bottom lip, hesitant to ask. He was also trying his damnedest to not let his gaze wander too much over Negan’s body, but so far that was a losing battle and his eyes drifted down over Negan’s bare chest to the light dusting of chest hair, rosy coin-sized nipples, and generous littering of black ink. It was a mouth-watering sight, and Rick swallowed. With some effort, he managed to lock eyes with Negan again and quietly asked, “Why’s that?”

With a proud lift of his chin, Negan purred, “Because you’ve got a snake in your hat.”

Promptly, Rick set off laughing so loud that he quickly had to muffle his face with his hands. Through all the giggles, he could feel his cheeks heat up under his bubbles, and his eyes were squeezed shut, but he laughed so hard he cried. By the time he finished, his laughter had died down to breathless little gasps. When he wiped the stray tears away and dared to look back up at Negan, it only set him off laughing again, quiet wheezy laughs this time, and waved his hands in apology at Negan as he sat at the foot of the bed to catch his breath.

“That wasn’t the exact kind of fucking reaction I was looking for, but I guess I’ll fucking take it,” Negan pouted behind him. Rick heard more than he saw Negan move, rustling the sheets as he crawled over to Rick’s side. “My dick is still fucking hard, so if you’re fucking good now, we can squeeze in a quickie before you leave, cowboy.”

Once he was sure he wouldn’t start laughing again, Rick turned his face towards Negan and shot him an apologetic smile. “Christ. Have you been marathoning _Toy Story_ with Judith again?”

Rather than immediately answering, Negan swooped in to steal a kiss, and it was open-mouthed and bruising, and when he pulled away it was with a parting nip on Rick’s bottom lip. “More like she’s made us fucking watch _Toy Story 2_ on repeat every day after school.” Rick’s hat was unceremoniously shoved down on Rick’s head. “She’s obsessed with Jessie and Stinky Pete.”

Shaking his head, Rick didn’t protest when Negan pulled off his button-up shirt and tossed it aside on the rocking chair. Rick’s own hands dropped to his lap as he unbuckled his belt and started to push down his brown slacks. “Yeah, I still remember when she was two and we threw a _Toy Story_ themed party for her. Maggie and Hershel dressed up as Jessie and Stinky Pete.”

“And you were Woody,” Negan hummed in Rick’s ear. His hands sneaked around Rick’s waist and he ghosted one palm over Rick’s crotch while the other played with his happy trail. “Looks like you got a little woody there for me, Rick. Guess my joke wasn’t that damn bad now, was it?” His teeth nipped at Rick’s earlobe and then he blew against his ear, sending shivers up and down Rick’s spine.

Twisting around in Negan’s grasp, Rick chased his mouth until they met in a hungry kiss again, which Negan broke when he urged Rick to climb further up into the bed. They settled with Negan’s back against the pillows again and Rick kneeling between Negan’s outspread, long legs. “Y’know, Negan, I seem to recall you showing up to that party and you were Mr. Potato Head with that terrible mustache.”   

Behind him, Negan snorted, “Don’t remind me – but if you wanna play that game, I seem to recall that you really liked that mustache. It tickled you in all the right fucking places.” He helped Rick strip off his white undershirt. As soon as that was gone, Negan’s mouth peppered kisses between Rick’s shoulder blades and then followed his spine downward, using tongue as he went, tasting how fresh and clean Rick’s skin was.

At the feeling, Rick closed his eyes and the tiniest of moans leaked from his lips. “You have fifteen minutes. Better make ‘em count.”

In response, Negan simply hummed and wrapped his fingers around the waistband of Rick’s powder blue boxers. “I’m gonna need you on your knees, baby.” He pressed a quick kiss to Rick’s shoulder, nipping again with his teeth. “Lift up.”

Rick did as he said, and Negan slid Rick’s boxers down to his knees, not even bothering to pull them all the way off. His hands returned to Rick’s hips again and urge him to tilt forward. “Bend over for me, baby, so I can get your ass ready for me.”

With a shudder, Rick dropped onto his hands. A blush had started to spread from his face down his neck to his chest as being so exposed like this. Even after being married to Negan for two years and having dated him for another two, Rick still got embarrassed about this. Of course, Negan didn’t make it easier on him. No, Negan often made things really hard.

“Damn, Rick.” There was a squeak as Negan opened up the bedside drawer, and another squeak as Negan shut it. “Look at you like this for me, baby.” There was a crack as Negan popped open the bottle of lube, and the smell of cherries and vanilla wafted through the air. Hanging heavy between his legs, Rick’s erection pulsed and a pearl of precome dotted the head of his cock in a Pavlovian reaction to the sound and fragrance. “Why don’t you reach back here and spread your cheeks for me, baby? I got my hands full here.”

There was a wet sound, and Rick’s mind readily supplied the image of Negan slicking up his cock in preparation. Another shudder racked his body before he slowly lowered himself until his ass was propped high in the air and his shoulders and chest were pinned to the bed. He turned his face to the side to breathe, the sheets blessedly cool against his blushing cheek, and then reached behind him. First, he smoothed his hands up the backs of his thick, hairy thighs up to his cheeks and he couldn’t resist ghosting his index finger over that ring of muscle before he grabbed his cheeks and pulled. Rick could feel himself clenching around nothing in nervous excitement, and Negan saw it because he whistled again.

“Fuck, Rick. I could come all over your ass right now just looking at ya.”

“Don’t you dare,” Rick quickly shot back and he couldn’t stifle the wiggle of his hips as his cock gave another throb between his legs.

One of Negan’s lubed up hands came down on the outside of Rick’s thigh with a crack and then he dragged his hand up to cover one of Rick’s hands. “Quiet, Rick. You know I’ll give you what you want. I always do.” A cold dollop of lube drizzled down the exposed crack of Rick’s ass and ran downward, clinging to the ring of muscle around his hole and even going further, dripping over his high, tight balls. “Now, I’m gonna need you to be quiet, baby,” Negan teased, “You don’t wanna wake up the neighbors with all that noise, huh?”

Before Rick could tell Negan that he was the one being loud, he felt Negan’s wet index finger circle his hole and start to tease it open. Quickly turning his face into the mattress, Rick muffled his moan there went Negan easily slid his index finger in to the second knuckle on the first push inside. Greedily, his hole fluttered around Negan’s finger, trying to suck him in deeper where he needed him.

“Oh,” Negan chuckled and shifted his placement of his other hand so he could grab Rick’s hip. “You’re so loose already, aren’t you, baby? I’ve fucking molded your ass to ride my dick.” He added a second finger and started to scissor Rick open, refusing to touch Rick how he wanted. “Mmm, looks like you’re already ready for more. Do you want more, baby?”

“Nngh,” Rick groaned into the mattress and then shifted so that only his forehead was pressed against it. His mouth unmuffled, Rick panted, “Yes, please. Please, I want more.”

“More fingers?” Negan slipped a third inside anyway and plunged his fingers into Rick over and over again, finger-fucking him open.

“Mmm, nooo.” Rick tried to shift his hips so that Negan could stimulate his prostate, but the tight grip Negan had on his hip kept him from moving too much.

“No?” Negan pulled his fingers free and grabbed his dripping dick, giving it one luxurious stroke. “What do you want, baby? Tell me what you need.”

“Want your cock, Negan,” Rick begged and twisted his head around so he could shoot Negan a coy, blue-eyed look over his shoulder. “Please, honey, please fuck me.”

Slowly, a smile spread across Negan’s face and he rocked his erection between Rick’s cheeks but did not enter him. The head of his cock just barely teased around the wet and loosened hole as Rick tilted his hips, trying to catch him inside. “Beg me again, baby. You always do it so fucking sweetly.”

Eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head, Rick huffed, “And you say I’m the tease.” His teeth briefly sunk into his bottom lip before he quickly released it and mustered up the sweetest voice he could. “Please, Negan. Gimme your cock.”

With a chuckle, Negan guided himself inside Rick with one smooth stroke that had Rick moaning from between his tightly pressed together lips. “That’s it, baby. Just let me make you feel good.” Negan’s pace started slow to break Rick in, enjoying just stretching him out. “Goddamn, your ass is as good as a fucking glove around my fat dick, Rick. Are you sure you’re not a virgin?” Negan joked.

"Negan,” Rick brokenly moaned, impatient, “Faster. Harder.”

Rick’s hands were still spreading his cheeks, making the glide of Negan’s cock inside so much smoother. With his chin propped on the bed, Rick was at the right angle for his prostate to be stimulated with every thrust. Each brush brought another dollop of come leaking from his dick. On one particularly hard thrust where Negan gave into the pace Rick wanted, Rick felt like he was being bent in half. His spine curled until the top of his head dug into the mattress and when Rick’s eyes popped open, he was looking at his own red, leaking dick dripping on the bed.

"Mm, Negan, fuck you feel so good,” Rick confessed, closing his eyes again as he just focused on the feeling of being split on Negan’s dick. He wished he could see Negan’s face, but he could feel his presence behind him and leaning over him like a heavy, warm shadow. Negan’s hands were everywhere at once, except where Rick wanted them to be, and he had the most sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that Negan had every intention of making him come with his cock untouched.

Suddenly, Negan’s hands on his shoulders jerked him upright, and Rick quickly clamped his lips together again to stifle a loud moan. “Enjoying the fucking ride, baby?” Negan arrogantly purred behind him, “You’re like a goddamn bucking bronco.” The change in the angle was instantaneous as Negan’s cock went from brushing against his prostate to hitting that spot over and over again.

“Fuck,” Rick called out – way too loud to his ears. He tried to duck his head down again, but Negan’s grip wouldn’t let him. “Negan,” Rick tried to speak softer, but it wasn’t by much, “Negan, I’m gonna come, gonna come.”

"That’s fucking right.” Dimly, Rick was aware of Negan letting go of one shoulder and then brushing his fingertips over his curls. And then Negan was gently setting Rick’s hat on top of his sweaty curls. “Come on my dick, cowboy.”

Throwing his head back, Rick gasped and came hot and heavy on the sheets, his ass milking Negan’s dick for all it was worth. “Oh, fuck, Negan!” Somehow, the hat managed to stay on.

Seconds behind, Negan climaxed as well, either not having enough time to pull out or – more likely – not wanting to pull out of the hot, velvety clench of Rick’s ass. “Rick,” Negan growled and repeated over and over again, bending so far over Rick that his forehead nestled between Rick’s shoulder blades and his breath was warm and damp against Rick’s already sweaty skin. “Rick, Rick, Rick, that’s it, baby.”

They rode out the aftershocks together, focusing on their heavy breathing as they climbed down from their high. Negan’s nose brushed back and forth as he shook his head, and then there was a drag of his lips in a lazy kiss. Rick’s thighs trembled from the strain and finally gave out as he collapsed onto his belly, the sheets beneath him sticky with his come, but he didn’t have the strength in him to care. Negan also didn’t have the strength either and fell right on top of Rick with a heavy whump of air out of their lungs.

Of course, Negan was the one to break the silence. “You know those shitty run-down bars,” he started to seemingly randomly observe, “that have the mechanical bull-rides? They ain’t shit compared to you, Rick.”

“Goddamn it, Negan,” Rick puffed.

“Gimme a minute,” Negan murmured in Rick’s ear, the tip of his nose tracing over the heated shell of Rick’s ear. “I’m still in the afterglow, baby.”

“You’re heavy,” Rick complained and weakly wiggled underneath him. Negan’s cock slipped out with what would be an embarrassing squelch if Rick had it in him to care about that, too. Instead he clenched his cheeks at the feel of Negan’s come dripping out of him and over his balls down to their ruined sheets. “Get off.”

“Such a hard ass, Rick.” Lazily, Negan rolled off onto his back and curled up on the sheets like the cat who got the cream. “Or tight ass, I should fucking say.” Negan tossed Rick a smile and then flicked two fingers against Rick’s hat. “God, I love this fucking hat. We should use it more often.”

“You know our kids play with this hat, right? Little hard to get a hat dry-cleaned.” Finally, Rick’s muscles could move again, and he twisted on his side so he could look at Negan. Some of the sheets still stuck to his skin, and he grimaced as he peeled them away. Negan only chuckled at that. Rick sat up and playfully swatted Negan’s chest, and then his eyes drifted over to the digital clock on Negan’s bedside nightstand. “Shit.” His eyes narrowed into blue daggers pointed at his husband. “That took more than fifteen minutes.”

“Don’t look at me,” Negan waved his hands in the air. “You’re the one who took your sweet time, baby. If you had fucked me, it woulda been a quickie.”

"Yeah, you’re easy,” Rick agreed and smacked Negan in the face with a pillow. “But maybe if you gave me a helping hand, too…”

Pushing the pillow away, Negan sat up and wrapped his arms around Rick’s waist, pulling them flush together, chest to chest, not minding the stickiness. “Allow me to rectify that for you, baby.” His hand drifted down and wrapped around Rick’s cock, already half-hard again with interest.

"Honey,” Rick’s voice somewhere caught between a whine and a warning, “Honey, I have to be at the station by six.” Still, his arms came up around Negan’s shoulders and he tilted his head back, offering up his neck for more of Negan’s kisses.

“You’re already going to be late, Rick.” Negan’s mouth sensuously trailed upwards and nibbled around Rick’s chin. “May as well make it count.”

“Mm,” Rick hummed and dipped his mouth down to catch his husband’s. “One more ride, honey.” He slipped his hat off and squashed it down onto Negan’s head this time. “And maybe a quick one in the shower, too.”

“Yeah,” Negan smirked into his kiss, “you’ll need it.”

* * *

 

At 7:13 exactly, Rick entered the station at a light jog, his hat clutched in his hands rather than on his head.

Practically omniscient, Sheriff Dale Horvath stuck his head out of his office. He tapped his index finger to his watch, bushy eyebrows climbing high on his forehead, but before he could ask what was the hold-up, Rick was already making his excuses.

“I know, I know. I’m late. I’m sorry.” Rick avoided his eyes as he rushed by him towards his desk.

“Do you have a good excuse at least?” Typical Dale, not to let things go.

Searching for an excuse, Rick tried to think of what Negan might say. “Some guy in traffic road my ass and I had to give him hell for it.”

“Oh,” Dale nodded, though there was still a small knit of confusion in his brow. “Did you read him the riot act?”

“Yup.” Rick briefly allowed himself to remember his second round with Negan, and then the extra two rounds in the shower before he finally kicked Negan out so he could actually get clean. “Every word of it.”

In his mind he could so clearly hear Negan purring sin into his ear. _“You got it in you for cowboy style, baby? And maybe a little reverse cowboy style, too?”_

“Forwards and backwards,” Rick tacked on, and ducked his head before Dale could catch his blush.


End file.
